


Literary Conflicts

by EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604



Category: South Park
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cliche, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fanfiction, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Meta, Metafiction, POV Third Person Omniscient, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Teen Romance, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604/pseuds/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604
Summary: Tweek Tweak is a quiet, nervous boy who just moved to South Park and struggles with finding companionship. Craig Tucker is a stoic, aloof boy who had his heart broken and is still trying to connect with people again. And Kenny McCormick is a kind, determined boy who knows something isn't right and will find out what's going on at any cost.





	Literary Conflicts

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for an exchange in a Discord server called Stark's Pond! My partner asked for teen romance and rom-com cliches, and I delivered- but with a twist. I hope you all like it!

_ Dear Diary, _

_ My name's Tweek Tweak, and this is my very first entry. I know it’s not the best name, but I'm stuck with it. My father’s never been good with names—I mean, he called his coffee shop Tweak  _ Bros. _ Coffee, even though he doesn't have a brother.  _

_ That damn coffee shop. It's the reason we moved to this quiet little mountain town: my father wanted to expand the business. But we were perfectly fine where we were. I was already nervous and introverted at a place where I knew people—there’s no way I'll survive here.  _

_ Sometimes I feel like that coffee shop is all he cares about.  _

_ Anyway, I should get back on topic. You're supposed to write about your day in a diary, right? I’ll start with that... _

_ As I walked through the double doors of the high school earlier today, I started twitching even more than usual. Lost in my thoughts, all alone, I didn't notice the boy in front of me until I had already bumped into him. _

_ “Hey!” I remember him saying. _

Tweek briefly stopped writing in his coffee-colored journal. 

“Real riveting story you got, Tweek. Truly, it will inspire future generations,” he muttered.

His thoughts drifted back to the events of that morning. That boy he had bumped into had been tall, clearly quite strong, with black hair and dark green eyes. He quickly wrote down this information in his diary _ — _ best to get the details in, after all—and continued on a tangent. His hand seemed to move of its own accord, leaving swooping cursive swirls of blue on the page. 

_ Something about those eyes…they were piercing, strong, almost as if they had looked into my innermost thoughts. They seemed to soften a little when he saw me. Like...God, this is cheesy, but he looked like he  _ knew _ what it was like to be alone.  _

_ Even though we only met for a second, I can't help but think about him. I want to see him again. _

He suddenly realized how tired he was; it had been a long day. He stopped writing again, set his pen down, and glanced out the window. The sky was dark, with only the faint glimmer of stars visible. 

Halfway across the town, in a similar suburban house to Tweek's, the black-haired boy he had written about stared out his window at the same starry sky. Those piercing green eyes welled up with tears as he clenched the framed photograph in his hand tighter, cracking the glass. His gaze returned to the picture.

_ Kenny...it's not fair. Why'd you have to…?  _

The photograph was one of him and a parka-wearing Kenny, grinning widely and holding up peace signs. The latter had a gap in his teeth that was revealed when he smiled. Craig had always loved seeing him smile. 

But now…

He tossed the photograph back onto his bedside table, the glass shattered into a million pieces and scattered all around it. He didn't bother cleaning it up.

The two boys both laid in their beds, hugging their knees, and soon fell asleep. 

Tweek turned over and mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep. He was dreaming of someone. They were extending their hand to him, showing him kindness...but his head was lowered, and he couldn't see their face. He slowly raised his gaze to the person and then—

Tweek’s eyes snapped open. 

_ Who...was that? I can barely remember… _

The last faint vestiges of his dream were already fading from his memory. He shook his head and began his usual morning routine; having a cup of coffee and a bagel, showering, brushing his teeth, and so on. Soon, Tweek was stepping through the high school's double doors for the second time. He twitched less than he had yesterday, as he had figured out where everything was and hadn't been kidnapped or relentlessly bullied like he was expecting. He was calm—or as calm as a paranoid coffee addict with no friends could be. 

He went through his day as he had before: going to classes, occasionally raising his hand to sputter out an answer to a question, and fidgeting in the rather uncomfortable chairs (tapping his pencil, scratching his arm, toying with the buttons on his green shirt, and so on). All the while, he stared at the black-haired boy he had seen yesterday, who sat in front of him; Tweek hadn't paid much attention to him the previous day, but now, he felt an odd connection with him, and it seemed to fix his gaze on the noirette. According to the teachers, his name was Craig.  _ That’s a nice name _ , Tweek thought; it was simple and didn't attract much attention. He wished he had a name like that.

Several hours later, he walked out of a classroom after the other students; he felt that he had seen the teacher somewhere before, but perhaps a bit more tanned. However, the blond soon put it out of mind and kept walking. 

“Hey. Blondie.”

Tweek nearly jumped out of his skin, fearing the worst, but as he turned around, towards the source of the nasally monotone voice, he saw only Craig. That explained it; Craig rarely spoke, and Tweek had only heard a few words out of him, so he had not recognized the voice: 

“U-u-um...y-yeah?”

“You're new here, right?” 

“Y-y-yes…”

Craig stayed silent for a moment, and he looked up and down the twitchy blond, taking in every detail of his appearance: the faint red scratch marks on his arms, the freckles on his nose, the flush of his cheeks standing out against his otherwise pale skin…

“Well, stick with me. Bein’ new can suck, but if you're with me, it'll be easier.”

Tweek blinked once, then a few more times, and responded, “U-um, well...thank you, but isn't that a little s-sudden?” 

But Craig was already walking past him, having seemingly ignored his question, and saying, “C'mon, blondie. We should get to lunch.”

“I-it's Tweek…” he mumbled quietly, but Craig was already too far away to hear; Tweek hurried after him.

Some distance away, a parka-wearing hooded boy watched the two walk off. 

“Something’s not right here…” he muttered. 

A pale ginger-haired boy tapped on his shoulder, interjected, “Kenny? We’re going to lunch,” and jerked a thumb behind him at the other two teenage boys standing nearby. “Why are you staring at Craig and that new kid, anyway? Don't tell me you're still hung up on him.”

“Kyle, wait a sec. Something feels off,” responded Kenny; he lightly pushed his friend's hand off him. “Me and Craig break up, and then a new kid who's quiet and shy  _ just happens _ to move to town?”

“Are you seriously suggesting—”

“Not to mention, everything feels way less funny than usual. And everyone talks weird- like they just finished their first poetry class. I gotta figure this out…” 

“Ugh, you're so weird sometimes,” scoffed Kyle. “Let’s just go, okay?” 

Absentmindedly, Kenny replied, “Yeah...yeah, sure thing,” and the two rejoined their friends.

Craig and Tweek, meanwhile, stood in line for their food. Tweek looked down at the rather unappetizing meat that had been unceremoniously plopped onto his tray: It was an odd combination of pink and gray, and had small lumps of fat throughout. Beside it was a pile of sad-looking wilted lettuce leaves, a tiny container of dressing, and a carton of chocolate milk. Craig then led him to a corner of the cafeteria with an empty table, and the two sat down across from each other. 

Seeing Tweek's expression, Craig reassuringly said, “Yeah, the food sucks ass, but that's why ya always carry somethin’ to spice it up a little.”

With a sly grin on his face, he retrieved a small flask of hot sauce and a miniature salt shaker from his pocket.

“Gah!” Tweek’s eyes darted around the room, making sure nobody saw them. “I-is that even allowed?!”

“Of course it’s allowed.” 

“B-b-but…”

“Relax, blondie,” dismissed Craig. “I've broken more important rules. Now do you want some or not?” he continued as he uncorked the flask and sprinkled a few drops of hot sauce onto his lump of meat.

“M-my name isn't ‘blondie’, it's Tweek,” the blond retorted in an annoyed tone. “And yes.”

Craig slid him the flask and glass container, which he caught, albeit with some awkward fumbling. He shook some salt and sauce onto his food and passed them back. Upon scooping some of the meat onto his plastic fork and raising to his mouth, his eyes immediately widened; he chewed the tough meat and, after a few attempts, managed to get it down amid Craig's snickering. 

“You'll get used to it,” the noirette said. 

“I hope so…” Tweek said, his attention oddly focused on the tray of food and his hands fidgeting under the table. “S-so, um, h-how’s your day going?” Tweek inquired in an attempt to make conversation.

Craig sighed and responded, “I'm not much for small talk. But, it’s going fine, I guess. Though I did have this weird dream last night…”

The two continued to talk idly for some time until the loud, slightly grating sound of the bell caused Tweek to jump in surprise. He collected himself and stood up, bidding Craig a soft “Goodbye” before the two parted to attend their last classes of the day. 

Over the next few weeks, Tweek and Craig kept spending time together, as Craig continued to teach his new protege about South Park High. At first, both were reluctant to open up or do much of anything outside small talk; however, as they slowly began to warm up to each other, new topics of conversation were breached. They began talking about Tweek's old home and school, their parents (Tweek had to admit that Craig’s parents sounded odd, but somehow more friendly than his), and most other things that came to mind. Tweek wrote in his diary daily, and soon, most of the entries were dominated by information about Craig. 

One day, as they sat in their usual corner of the cafeteria, Tweek curiously said, “You know, Craig, you've told me about most everyone in this school, except them,” then pointed to a group of four boys some distance away. “Who are they?”

Craig looked where Tweek was pointing and responded, “Oh, them? Well, that ginger kid with the stupid green hat is Kyle. He's a self-righteous smartass. And the kid with the black hair and equally stupid poof-ball hat is Stan. He's a cynical dumbass,” he answered, chuckling a little. “They've been inseparable ever since they were kids.”

“Th-they don't seem so bad…” Tweek responded as he saw the two laughing and joking with each other.

“Eh, they're nice enough, I guess,” the noirette shrugged. “Annoying, yes, but they're not bad people or anything.”

His voice then took on a more serious tone as he added, “But it's not them I'm worried about. See the fatass with the brown hair?” 

Craig pointed to the one he was talking about. Tweek nodded, noting that he seemed to have an odd, almost sadistic smirk on his face. 

“That's Eric Cartman. Worst person in the school by far. He’s a bully, a bigot, and everything in between. Some say he's not even human.”

Tweek shuddered at the very mention of him.

“He’s actually the reason I approached ya at first- I noticed him eyein’ you up.”

“S-so, you wanted to pr-protect me?” asked the blond.

“More like, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of claiming another victim. But, yeah, now that we've gotten to know each other, I'd say I'm more willin’ to help you.”

“Oh, w-well, y-you don't…” Tweek's voice trailed off and turned into unintelligible mumbling, and his face began to flush.

Craig returned his gaze to Tweek. Whenever the blond blushed like that, he always found himself feeling...he couldn't think of the word for it, but it was something good. 

Tweek cleared his throat, his blush slowly fading, and asked, “S-s-so who's that last one?” 

Craig scratched the back of his head and looked around for a few seconds before his eyes settled on the parka-wearing teen. 

“Oh. That's, uh...that's Kenny McCormick.”

Tweek nodded slightly. 

“He's a…pretty nice guy, actually. Massive perv, though. We, uh, ahem...we used to date.”

“Oh,” Tweek gasped quietly; he extended a comforting hand towards Craig, saying, “I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”

“It's fine. There’s no way you could have known.”

Kenny, his hands in the pockets of his coat, stared at the two, deep in thought. 

Cartman leaned over to him and asked, “What are ya up to there, Kinny? Still pinin’ after that asshole Craig Tucker?”

“No,” responded the sandy blond in a stoic voice. “Now shut up. I might just have it…”

Though he looked dejected for a moment, Craig soon seemed to perk up again, and he and Tweek continued eating and chatting to each other. Kenny continued intently watching them, searching for a sign, and suddenly leaned forward with a loud gasp, sending a shocked Cartman stumbling backwards. He stood up and walked to Stan and Kyle, who were both howling with laughter at some joke one of them had made.

“Stan, can I borrow him for a second?” he asked; without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Kyle's sleeve and pulled him away, into a more secluded area. 

Kyle started to protest with a, “Dude, I was—”

However, Kenny cut him off by saying, “Remember how I told you something wasn't right?”

“You mean how you thought Tweek moving here was some kind of conspiracy to get you? Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I started to study things around me, lookin’ for anything that seemed off. I noticed stuff that seemed weird: Stan’s solution to every problem is to take his friends out drinking, everyone dresses really elaborately, people keep popping their ‘p's when they talk…”

“And?” 

“Well, where have you seen that before? The supportive best friend whose solution to everything is to get drunk?” 

“Umm…” Kyle rubbed his chin with a finger and thought for a moment. “Crappy romantic comedies?” 

“Exactly!” Kenny cried. “So I thought, ‘Okay, this episode must be about rom-coms and teen romance. All I gotta do is wait until it's over and stuff will go back to normal.’ But then it didn't end—it just kept going for weeks. I started observin’ stuff again, and I noticed more things. Like that.” 

He gestured to Craig and Tweek. 

“Craig just tried some of Tweek's coffee. But I know for a fact Tweek always has black coffee in that thermos— from the smell, and that one time it spilled. And Craig  _ hates  _ black coffee. With a  _ passion _ . It's one of the few things I've ever seen him get worked up about.” 

Kyle groaned and rolled his eyes, responding, “Look, Kenny, you’re being obsessive. It's actually kinda creepy.” 

“But I'm not done! That, there, that’s just one example of people acting really out of character!” Kenny exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. He pointed to his own chest and continued, “Like me! I would never be this observant or methodical! This proves it!”

“Proves  _ what _ ?!”

“We're not just in an  _ episode _ about crappy rom-coms and teen romance! We're in a  _ fanfiction  _ about crappy rom-coms and teen romance!”

“Kenny, stop it!” Kyle yelled. “I know losing Craig was hard on you, but you need to calm down,” he said, his voice becoming calmer and more compassionate. “I'm your friend, and I hate seeing you like this. Let me help.”

Kyle's eyes widened as he looked up at Kenny, an expression of kindness on his face, and the two began to lean closer, softly blushing, both staring deeply…

“Ah-ha! See?!” shouted Kenny, pulling away. “That, right there! Now the author's tryin’ to pair you and me up!” 

“Ugh. All right, apparently I'm not going to convince you,” moaned Kyle, clearly irritated. “How can I help fix things so you'll calm down?” 

“Well, the author, whoever they are, is clearly trying to get Craig and Tweek together. If we can keep them from gettin’ together, maybe the author will stop and things will go back to normal. Get Stan and Butters,” the sandy blond ordered. “We'll need all the help we can get.”

The bell soon rang, and Craig allowed a faint smile to adorn his face as he noticed Tweek hadn't jumped this time. The two friends went their separate ways once again. 

Later that day, as Tweek reached into his backpack to retrieve a piece of paper, he noticed a distinct lack of something very important in the bag.

_ Shit...I'll ask someone about it after class. _

As the last bell of the day rang, Tweek glanced around for someone he knew; his eyes soon landed on Kyle. He decided it was as good a choice as any, and approached him.

“Um, e-excuse me? I-It’s Kyle, right? Have you seen a journal with a brown cover?”

“Hmm?” Kyle turned toward him with a faint tilt of his head. “I think I saw Stan with it...he said something about Craig, and I think a bet?”

Tweek sharply inhaled, his eyes narrowing, and pushed through the other students. He began to quickly walk to the nearby classroom where he knew Craig would be, until he saw the noirette walking, facing away from him. 

“Hey, Craig?” he called.

Craig stopped and turned towards him. 

“Yeah?” 

“H-have you seen my di _ — _ uh, journal? It has a brown cover, no writing on the front…”

Out of a nearby crowd of students, a boy that Tweek recognized as Kenny McCormick appeared and approached Craig. A shorter blond boy, who Tweek remembered was named Butters, stood with him.

“Hey, Craig! So did ya get it?” Kenny asked.

“Huh?”

Craig narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  “Get what?”

This was odd, he thought. He and Kenny hadn't talked much since their breakup aside from friendly nods and hellos. So why was Kenny approaching him now?

“You know, the thing! For the bet!” 

“Maybe he forgot where he put it,” Butters said.

“Good thinkin’, Buttercup. Let's check your backpack…”

Kenny stepped a little closer and pulled Craig's bag off of him, among some protests and squirming, then opened it and dug through its contents. 

“Yep! Here it is!” he said triumphantly, and held up a small coffee-colored book.

Tweek froze. 

_ Why would Craig have my...why does everyone keep talking about a bet?  _

“I-I feel kinda bad, though, Ken,” Butters said, hanging his head a little. “Isn't it kinda cruel to get close to somebody and then take the book where they write their deepest secrets, just for a bet?” 

_ What…? No, that can't be… _

A gleeful smile on his face, Kenny replied, “Nah, Craig doesn't care! He's stone-cold when it comes to these things.”

“What the fuck are you—” Craig began.

“Craig! I...I can't believe you would do that!” Tweek cried, his fists clenched at his sides. 

“No, I don't know how—”

“You don't  _ know _ ?! So three people just set you up for no reason?!” he screamed. 

“I really don't know!” 

“Oh, save it! I-I thought...God, I can't believe I thought somebody could like me,” Tweek mumbled shamefully, tears beginning to run down his face. 

He quickly snatched the journal out of Kenny's hands and ran away, sobbing quietly. 

Craig whirled on Kenny and leaned close to him with gritted teeth.

“What the hell was that?!” 

Kenny pushed his hands out palm-first a few times, and said, “Okay, okay, I know this looks bad, but it's for the greater good! You'll thank me later.” 

“‘ _ Greater good _ ’? Is this some fucked-up attempt to get back together with me?” 

“No, I—”

“Because I want nothing to do with it. I gotta go clean up this mess,” said Craig dismissively as he walked away. “Think I have an old boombox lyin’ around somewhere…”

Kenny reached towards Craig and called out, “Craig, wait! I’m trying to save you from a life of poorly-written sex and using the word ‘smol’! ...Shit, he's gone. And I think he's gonna pull the most classic of rom-com moves.”

“Wh-what's that?” asked Butters worriedly.

“He's gonna play a boombox on Tweek's front lawn late at night to apologize,” Kenny said grimly. “Get the others, quick. We gotta stop them. Because if they start running towards each other in slow motion...it might be all over.”

Tweek threw open the front door of the coffee shop, the faint tinkling of a bell filling the room. There were a few customers there, but he quietly worked his way past them, then went through a back door that led to their home above the shop. Tweek walked past his parents without acknowledging their greetings. Then, he entered his room, slamming the door shut and falling onto his bed, sobbing and clutching the diary close. 

“I'm so stupid...how could anyone want to be friends with a panicky loner spaz like me?” 

As the sun slowly set and the moon began to rise, Craig stepped out of his house and started his walk towards the coffee shop where he knew Tweek lived, carrying an old boombox under his arm (and seeming to struggle a little with the weight). Several pairs of eyes shone faintly from within a nearby bush, watching him.

“He's on his way,” whispered Butters. 

“Let's get goin’, then,” replied Stan.

“Okay, everyone,” Kenny said. “Initiate Operation A-O-Three!”

“Ugh. Just letters and numbers? That's so boring. From now on, I get to name the operations,” said Kyle. 

The four sprang out of the bush, brushed the leaves and twigs out of their hair and clothes, and ran after Craig. 

Soon, Tweek began to hear faint violin music. He lifted his head from his tear-stained pillow and slowly stood up, stumbling for a moment as his leg was still asleep. Since the music was coming from the front of the house, the blond walked to his window and looked out.

Craig was outside the coffee shop, holding a boombox above his head. Tweek sighed dejectedly and quickly rushed downstairs and out of the coffee shop.

“Why are you playing Bach's violin concerto No. 1 in A Minor?” he asked, rubbing his reddened eyes. 

“It was the only song on it,” Craig explained, setting the player down and turning it off. 

Tweek nodded almost imperceptibly to show understanding and then was silent and unmoving. The two remained staring at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Tweek broke the unearthly quiet with, “Well, what do you want?” 

“I came to apologize. I still don't know exactly what happened, but—”

“Stop!” cried Kenny as he rushed in along with Stan, Kyle, and Butters. 

“K-Kenny? What are you doing here?” Tweek asked, involuntarily starting to clench his fists again.

“We made up the whole thing about the bet!” Butters blurted out. 

“It's true,” added Stan. “I stole your diary and planted it on Craig.” 

Tweek shook his head, bewildered, and asked, “But...why?” 

“Because you two can't get together!” Kenny said. “All this…” _ — _ he gestured all around him _ — _ “It’s not supposed to be like this. Someone is trying to pair you two up, but if they fail, they might stop and things can go back to normal! To a better, more real world! You both deserve better than  _ this _ .” 

Kyle nodded slightly. 

“S-so…someone wants me and Craig to d-date? And if we don't, then things might get better?”

“Right! And once they do, you can both have a better relationship!” Kenny smiled. 

Tweek took a few deep breaths and glanced around, seemingly thinking about it.

“No.”

“What?!” 

“I feel happy whenever I'm with Craig. He’s kind to me- he's one of the few people who is. I'd only written about it in my diary and never said it out loud, but now I know for certain—I want to be with him. And I don't want to give that up just for a chance at something a little better.”

“Tweek…” Craig mumbled. 

“So I'm sorry, Kenny, but you'll have to figure out some other way to get what you want. Good luck,” Tweek said firmly, and stepped toward Craig. 

“No, wait! Don’t!” 

Kenny reached out his arm again, but Stan grabbed it to prevent him from reaching the couple. Kyle and Butters placed their hands on his shoulders, and he sighed and lowered his arm, as Tweek leaned toward Craig. 

“I-If you'll have me, Craig…”

Craig placed a finger on Tweek's lips, that sly grin that Tweek had come to love on his face, and said, “Of course I will, blondie.” 

Tweek gave a warm, wide smile of his own in return and leaned even closer to Craig. 

Their lips met. 

It seemed that the entire world slowed down, and the two continued their intimate kiss for what seemed like an eternity. 

As they pulled back, a shuddering noise, as if the universe itself were deeply breathing out, was heard, and their surroundings seemed to fade out of existence. The six teens were all standing in an empty black space. 

“Where are we?” Stan asked, looking around.

“How odd…” mumbled Kyle.

“I think the fanfiction’s over,” said Kenny. 

His arm still around Tweek's waist, Craig asked, “So what now?” 

Kenny shrugged.

“I guess we just wait for someone else to write something about us,” he said.

“W-well, hopefully it's something like what you wanted, Kenny,” said Tweek. 

Kyle smiled a little and said, “You seem rather calm.” 

“Well, at this point, I'm not going to question what Kenny says. Besides, I'm with Craig. I know he'll keep me safe, and I'll do the same for him.”

They continued to idly wait, sometimes tapping on their legs, humming softly, or switching their weight from one leg to the other. After a few minutes, a light appeared some distance away and began to expand, getting closer and closer to them. 

“Guess that's our cue,” said Stan. 

Kenny squinted and stared at the light, then said, “Huh...looks like this one's another fanfiction where Craig and Tweek end up together.” 

The couple looked at each other and smiled. 

“But...oh, no.” 

“What is it, Ken?” Butters asked. 

“In this one, I'm portrayed as a homewrecking asshole whose only personality trait is liking sex!”

Kenny turned away from the light and dramatically threw his hands up, imploring, “Please, anything but that! Have me not appear at all! Ship me with Cartman! Just don't _ — _ ”

His pleas were interrupted as the light reached them, and Butters and Kenny were consumed by it; the others only heard a dramatic “Noooo!” before they disappeared. 

“He'll be fine. He always is,” reassured Stan before he, too, was sucked in.

“See you there,” Kyle said, smiling, and the light covered him.

“You ready?” Craig asked Tweek.

“Of course.” 

The couple tightly gripped one another's hands and stepped forward into the light, onward to their next adventure.


End file.
